


Candlelight

by thegreatgayjatsby



Series: Kingbury Modern AU [1]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8667403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: "Georgie is secretly a really great cook but he doesn’t like to often (because it’s too much work obvs) so when he does cook for Sammy he makes a big deal out of it with candles and wine."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This series is based off of a set of modern au kingbury headcanons @monsieurlefayette posted on tumblr. The series is dedicated to @monsieurlefayette, @ask-king-george-iii and @ask-sam-seabury.

Samuel had not had a particularly difficult day at work, but it had been tiring nonetheless, and he was more than ready to return home and sink into bed. George had the car today, and Samuel was resigned to make use of public transportation. He had to admit, on a day like this, with his feet aching, that George had a point when he whined about it being stupid that his apartment only permitted one car per unit.

On the other hand, he didn’t really feel comfortable driving a Rolls-Royce around New London. George could keep his flashy car. Besides, selling his old junker had been gratifying. George’s car did have heated leather seats, though.

Anyways. Sam stood wearily towards the back of the bus, one arm slung around a pole his leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He held his phone precariously with fingers still numb from the cold, shooting his boyfriend a quick text.

[to George]: Heading home, see you soon!  

He put his earbuds in and closed his eyes, pausing every few moments to check what stop he was at. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed in his hand, and he checked his messages, happy to see George had responded.

[from George]: Good!!! 

A little smile alighted on Sam’s lips, and he tucked his phone away in order to press the button indicating to the bus driver that making a stop was necessary. When the bus stopped, he made his way off of it and traipsed up the sidewalk to his apartment building. The elevator moved as slow as always, its aging brass fixtures tarnished and its aroma that of an old folks’ home. George never failed to comment on it.

Keys jingling a little, Sam worked them into the lock and turned them, using his shoulder to pop the door to their apartment open. It always swelled and jammed in the threshold when the heat first turned on in the winter. George never failed to comment on that, either.

Immediately, Sam was greeted with a sight to behold. George stood in the middle of the kitchen, grinning a little too wide—a nervous habit he had never bothered to break. Samuel raised an eyebrow, slowly setting his bag down as he appraised his apartment.

Every conceivable surface was covered in candles. The glow was soft and welcoming, and George looked particularly handsome as he fidgeted, awaiting Samuel’s response. The apartment smelled good, too, like a fine restaurant had taken up residence in their kitchen. Sam slid out of his coat and hung it by the door, which he closed behind him before stepping further into the apartment.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked carefully, praying that he hadn’t forgotten their anniversary—no, that was December. It was still November. Maybe some important British date?

George continued to grin at him. “Nothing! I just, at lunch, you said you were having a little bit of a bad day. I wanted to help.” His voice came out in a rush, his accent a little thicker than usual.

Sam peered past his boyfriend to their kitchen table, which George had cleaned off and set up with a dinner for two. Adoration arose in him, making him a little shaky with its intensity, and Sam smiled back broadly. “Oh, George.”

The Brit swept his arm towards the table in a grand gesture. “I’d offer to take your coat, but…”

Sam nodded and moved closer, cupping George’s cheek and kissing him gently. George melted into him, his hands fluttering about Sam’s waist as he kissed back. It was intense, and Sam found himself a little short of breath when he pulled away.

“Thank you,” He mumbled against George’s lips, nuzzling their noses together. “You’re so sweet.”

George looked as if he might burst with pride when moved back, and Sam bit back a laugh as the other turned to pull his chair out for him. Samuel sat delicately, and George hurried to follow suit, facing him from across the table and pouring them both glasses of wine.

“It was no problem, love.” He said warmly, stamping down the memory of getting into an argument earlier that day at the grocery store with a clerk when an ingredient he’d wanted to use was discovered to be out of stock.

The look on Sam’s face when he’d walked into their apartment had made his troubles worth it. “Just relax and enjoy.”

Samuel took a sip of his wine and tried, and failed, to suppress a bubbly little laugh. George always seemed to be there at the right time with his unfettering charms, and, apparently, brilliant cooking skills. “I promise.” He answered, turning to his food.

Sam’s day had turned out good, after all.


End file.
